


All The Things He Forgot

by Junigatsu84



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Abduction, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dark, Drugs, Kidnapping, M/M, References to Depression, References to Drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 09:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Junigatsu84/pseuds/Junigatsu84
Summary: It has been 15 years since the events of 1983.  And six years since Will’s breakdown.  The cocktail of prescriptions he has been taking has allowed Will to live a life oblivious of the horrors he’d seen.  But the past becomes much harder to suppress when Mike forces his way back into his life.  And Will realizes just how much good he had to bury with the bad.





	1. Chapter 1

Will stood amongst the small crowd that had gathered waiting for the bus. Feeling, not for the first time, invisible. Most days, he preferred the anonymity. He remembered enough of his past to recall being an outcast growing up and getting wayward glances in the hallway. But today, the anonymity felt more like loneliness. 

When the bus pulled up, Will got on and waved to the driver. She nodded her head and smiled, grateful for the small kindness. She was one of many people that he shared his everyday. He gave out these small gestures with many people in his life but he wasn’t close to anybody really. He was a part of an arts collective. He had met more people through his show openings than there had been in his small town. Yet, he never felt more alone. He never made friends like the ones he had when he was 12. 

He shook his head. He guessed that the antidepressants were wearing off. He needed to take them, along with all the other medicine he had at home. Maybe he would call his mom when he got back. She was always willing to talk and, as long as she didn’t talk about the past, he was always more than willing to listen. But for the meantime, he put in his headphones and put on Coppélia. One of his coworkers had invited him to see the ballet once. Will loved watching the dancers and how they had such command over their body. Will had longed for that kind of control since his breakdown in college. After which, he’d begun adhering to a strict schedule.

Mornings started early. He’d wake at 5 am with coffee, breakfast, and his dosage. He would sweep through the house with whatever needed cleaning. Work started around 8 but he left at 7 am and always brought a book or his sketch journal with him. He’d write small snippets of thoughts on the ride or in the courtyard with the hope of eventually putting them into poems. But they sat unused in his book. If they were used, it was in the form of paintings. He couldn’t write the way he used to these days. His mind was often too cloudy. 

Perhaps he could paint when he got home; do something with orange, pink, and gold. Perhaps a sunset. Perhaps something more abstract. He was trying to create a new series for a showing at the local art gallery. It had been nearly a year already since he had his first opening. He had been so happy, nearly everyone had been there. His mother, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and Max even made it out. It had meant the world to him. Normally, he cut off the thought before he could dwell on who hadn’t been there:

Jane and Mike.

But today the temptation to dwell was stronger than usual. He quickly changed the song to another waltz: Liebeslieder, before his thoughts could spiral out of control. He focused on the music and imagined colors in the music. He pictured them washing over him and smiled, thinking about the jars of paint and what it would be like to move his brush to the movements in the song. 

But he never did.  
___________________

Will got off the bus and heard the commotion before he saw it. One of the voices he recognized belonged to the security guard at his building.

He used his key card and opened the door and his heart nearly stopped.

The other voice belonged to Mike.

Everything was swelling in him like a tidal wave. Things on the edge of his memory beckoned and he felt unsteady. He needed to get his medicine, his next dosage, or he wouldn’t be able to handle this wrench thrown into his life, this appearance of a ghost.

The guard stood in front of the elevator, blocking Mike, her voice commanding, “You aren’t going ANYWHERE without identification!”

“Screw your identification! I know you’re keeping him here!” 

“Keeping him here? What in God’s name are you talking about?” 

He took the opportunity to press the intercom behind her and shouted, “Will! I’m coming for you!”

Will snapped himself out of his thoughts, “Mike!”

The tall man turned. His hair was longer and pulled back in a ponytail. He had scraggly patches of hair on his face now. Not enough to consider really a beard, but enough to look unkempt. What had happened to him?

“Will!” 

Will watched the confusion and relief on Mike’s face as he strides towards him and grasped Will’s shoulders. His touch was gentle, like it always had been, and Will thought he would melt. 

"Are you okay?" Mike asked. Everything felt so familiar and so close and he felt dizzy. He was not ready. Not for Mike. Not for him being here and most definitely not his touch. There were faceless moments clawing their way up from where he’d buried them. He needed to get back to his apartment. 

Shaylee rushed over, “Sir, step back! Get your hands off him!”

Mike’s face changed as he looked at her and seemed instantly ready to fight again. 

Will responded. “He’s a friend of mine.”

As much as he didn’t want to, he stepped away from Mike for a moment to deescalate the situation. But he became very aware of how weak his body felt.

Shaylee leaned in, “Is he some possessive ex? Do you want me to call the cops?”

“No! He’s just…” Will didn’t know how to explain to her. He didn’t want to, it would involve digging up things he knew he couldn’t handle right now. “He’s an old friend who occasionally... falls off the bandwagon.”

She looked over at Mike, skeptically. “Anything turns sour and you just ring for me.” She then eyed him up, “Honey, are you alright?”

Will suddenly felt endeared towards her. He explained, “I’ll be fine. I just need my meds. I took them too early this morning.” 

“Okay. You want me to walk you up?”

“No, I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

He looked back over at Mike and felt his knees go wobbly for a different reason. Old emotions were coming back up. He remembered being within his sphere, the small distances they used to keep and how badly Will had wished to close them. Knees that nearly touched under the table, fingers that brushed in the popcorn bag, the small contact from squishing next to each other on an over crowded couch. Those little moments never failed to distract him, to thrill him. But Will found himself wanting to shove the feelings down again. 

They felt like a Trojan horse. That those old emotions were only on the surface and, should he give into them, he would be opening up all the other things he’d buried. Horrors that the medicine helped him forget.

He felt Mike’s hand holding his elbow to steady him. “Will, are you okay?”

Those words. Mike was always asking him that… he was always worried.

“I’m fine. I just… need to get upstairs. I’m tired.”

As they walked to the elevator, Mike’s arm wrapped around Will, holding his elbow and bringing Will closer so that he was leaning against Mike for support. He looked down at Will, who had never managed to completely catch up in height. 

“Is this okay?” Mike asked.

Will felt like his head was spinning. Mike was holding him. Of course, it was okay. He felt weak for giving into it, but he didn’t want to relinquish the contact. 

Will answered, “‘Of Course. Umm... sure.”

Two answers? He asked himself. He remembered what the other half of his feelings were: the fear of rejection, of misinterpretation, of doing something stupid.

But a smile flicked into the corners of Mike’s mouth and it took everything in Will not to remark on his beauty. He used to do anything for that smile. He knew he still would.

The elevator doors closed on them and they began to ascend. Mike held Will a little closer. They should be talking. Will knew he should find something to say but his head was swimming. Then, he felt Mike’s cheek resting against his head. Will thought his heart was going to burst from his chest. Was this really happening? Maybe he had passed out on the floor downstairs. Maybe this was all a dream.

Or maybe… Mike had been through something traumatic. Maybe... Something happened… or maybe something came back. Will shook his head to shove the thoughts away. They were getting close, too close. The motion shook off Mike’s cheek. 

Will looked up, regretful. “No, it’s not you. Not that. That was fine. I just… had a thought and-”

Mike’s smile again. He was amused at Will’s embarrassed blabberings. “It’s okay, Will. It’s fine.” He was spending too long looking at Will’s face. It was longer than friends were supposed to look. 

Will let himself drink in Mike’s face as well. The new scar along his jawline, the bags under his eyes, the weathered look of someone that had no home. None of which diminished how beautiful he still looked. 

“I’m glad that you’re… that you weren’t…” Mike seemed momentarily at a loss for words. His face searched Will’s and sighed and Will could hear the ache in his words, “I missed you, Will.”

Will soaked in the words. But there was a hint of bitterness in him. Then, why didn’t you ever show up? He was certain there was a story. But he didn’t want to think about it now. He didn’t want to ruin this. 

He could barely breathe a response back, “I missed you, too.”

Mike’s hand twitched, hesitating for a moment before delicately stroking Will’s cheek. Will felt enchanted, like he was under a spell. What what happening? Why was Mike suddenly here? Why was he doing this? Will heard the old natterings of how it could all be misinterpreted, of how it could all be explained away. But he didn’t want to give them a chance. Mike was here. He didn't care why. He was stroking his cheek and looking at him that way. He didn't understand why but he didn't want to let this moment go. He didn't want to to sit with his thoughts and argue inaction anymore. He lifted his heels to reach and pressed his lips to Mike’s. He would wait for the rejection if it was going to come but, for once, he wanted to assume the best case scenario.

But Mike’s lips massaged against his, beckoning Will to open his mouth. Will held Mike’s face in his hands and threw himself deeper into the kiss. Mike’s hands were around Will’s back, holding him like he’d never let go. 

Will felt like he could soar, like there wasn’t a thing on earth that could bring him back to the ground. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. He felt tears on the brim of his eyes. Why hadn’t he been capable of feeling this before? Why had he been alone for so long? Why hadn’t he been able to make friends? Some curtain had been drawn between him and the world but Mike had managed to get passed it. 

“Mike…”

Mike pulled away for the moment and took in Will’s face. Will wondered if he could he see the years of loneliness? He wanted desperately to ask him why he’d taken so long. But he couldn’t. 

Will shook his head and said, in barely a whisper, “Nevermind.”

Mike laid a kiss on Will’s brow. “We can talk about it later if you want.”

Will nodded.

The elevator dinged and surprised them both. Will lead Mike down the hallway to his apartment and he fumbled with his messenger bag for the keys. He felt like his fingers were clumsier and heavier. When he opened the door, Will looked at the kitchen cabinet where he kept his medicine. Once the drugs started taking affect, he would become quiet, his thoughts and actions would slow to almost a halt. It was why he woke up so early. It took awhile for them to even out. He didn’t want to take away from this moment. He wanted to have Mike in his arms and feel everything fully. He didn’t want to draw the curtain again. 

He closed the door, turned to Mike, and pressed him against it in another kiss. Mike put his hands on Will’s waist and pulled him closer. Will gasped as he felt the curves of Mike’s body against his. They were moving too fast, Will thought. But it was all thrilling and he didn’t want to stop. His hands roamed under Mike’s shirt and felt the rough tissue of healing skin and Mike winced. Will immediately stopped and lifted Mike’s shirt to see abrasions on nearly his whole left side. 

“Mike! What happened?!”

“I got in a fight.”

“With who, a motorcycle?! It looks like you got dragged.”

Mike pulled his shirt down. “Please, Will. Just… just a few more minutes… please?”

A few more minutes. So, that they could pretend. They could forget what their lives had been like apart, that they ever had been apart. 

“And then, what?”

“Then, we talk.”

Will’s eyes flicked away. They were both putting it off. He wondered if they should. If they should just admit it. He should take his medicine and accept that this wasn’t the same Mike from growing up. And that he wasn’t the same person Mike knew either. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” Mike asked. 

Will’s heart jumped. He felt color rising to his cheeks. He pointed down the short hallway. “First door on the right.”

“I bet I can still pick you up.”

“In your condition-” But he didn’t finish because Mike’s arms were around him, his feet were lifted off the ground, and he was folded over Mike’s shoulder. “What the hell?! Mike!” He felt like a potato sack, like a rag doll. When had Mike gotten so strong?

“You’re like a bird!” Mike laughed. Now, he was gloating. 

He wanted to defend himself but he was enjoying this a bit too much. He couldn’t say anything without laughing. Mike walked over to Will’s bedroom, not without struggling a bit, and laid him on the bed. Mike’s arms were on either side of Will. He looked up into Mike’s face in the dark room, the streetlights only hinting at Mike’s features.

They shouldn’t. Will thought. It was the first time they’d seen each other in years. Where should they draw the line? What would be too far? Though his body ached to be touched, craved the rough motions of passion, Will brought his hand to Mike’s face and cupped it, his thumb carrassed Mike’s cheek. He was back, he was in his reach, in his arms. He lifted himself and brought his lips to the scar on Mike’s jaw, to the bridge of his nose. He hoped Mike didn’t feel like he was being littered with kisses, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to kiss every inch of Mike. He kept the kisses closed, even as they travelled to Mike’s neck. Leave the shirt on, Will’s mind scolded. But Mike made the decision for him and took off his shirt. Will reciprocated. 

Without the shirt, he could feel the air around Mike getting warmer, heated. He let his kisses roam over Mike’s chest while Mike’s fingers stroked the smooth skin of Will’s back, up to his neck, and the hair at the base of his skull. And it drove Will a little crazy. He opened his mouth and let his tongue flick over the crook of Mike’s neck, unearthing a moan that Will felt through his mouth. He kissed harder, wanting more, more of those little reactions. Mike’s hips pressed against Will’s and the grip on his hair tightened. 

“Will… Will.”

Will’s hand dug through Mike’s hair, that messy mop that he had dreamed about raking his fingers through. He wanted Mike to say his name again. He bit and sucked the tender area. 

“Will!” His voice was different and it echoed in Will’s head. Mike yelling Will’s name, but full of fear, of worry, panic. The memories of the dark nights and places were returning. He pushed himself away, gasping.

“Will?” There it was, the concern. Will nearly remembered why. 

“I need my medicine. I need to take it.”

He could feel Mike tense. “Where is it?” 

Will debated getting it himself but he wasn’t sure he could stand up at this point; that he wouldn’t collapse from light-headedness. He hadn’t realized just how bad the withdraw was from his meds were. He had never gone so long before. “It’s in the kitchen, in the cabinet… on the right of the sink. There are three orange pill bottles. Just bring them all and water.”

Mike nodded, silently, and walked out. Will felt remorse at losing that moment but the fear of remembering was so much stronger. He had made such progress. He had done so well for himself. He couldn’t risk that. Remembering meant a return of nightmares, of panic attacks, of crippling fear. He had managed to hide the memories away in the depths of his mind and that’s where they had to remain.

“I couldn’t find them.”

“What?!” Fear gripped him. He got up to stand but it was too quick and he fell. But Mike caught him. “Take me to the kitchen, please.”

“They aren’t there.” He said with certainty.

“I only ever take them in the kitchen.” He remembered from this morning. It had been earlier but he’d left them in the same place. He looked up at Mike, and noticed something was different about his face. He looked guilty, conflicted. Something had changed in him.

Suspicion creeped in, he didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want it to be true. But he needed to ask, “Mike, did you take them?”

“I’m sorry, Will.”

The room was spinning. He needed to get out of Mike’s grasp. He had betrayed him. “Give them back.”

“I can’t.”

“Give them back!” He pounded his fists against Mike’s chest.

“Something is going to happen, Will. And I need you awake.”

“Get off of me! Let me go!” He had to get to the intercom, to Shaylee. 

“You’ve been asleep for too long, Will. You need to come back. You need to wake up.” 

He shoved himself out of Mike’s arms and felt himself collapse on the floor. But everything felt slower. He stared under his bed. Images were creeping back. Scribblings of blue crayon on scraps of paper. Vines. Tunnels. Looming shadows. Everything in his body felt heavy. He needed to stand up. But he felt Mike lifting him again and the world went dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Mike picked up Will and delicately laid him on the bed. He tucked the strands of stray hair from Will’s face and ran his thumb over the smooth skin on his cheek.

“I’m sorry, Will.” He wished he could have left Will to live in peaceful, blissful ignorance. He hated what this would do to him. For the first time in years… Will would have to face the nightmares again. He’d remember everything.

Mike felt Will’s forehead. He knew what signs to look for. He just didn’t know how long before they’d start to take effect. But his head still felt normal. They’d at least have a little while. 

Mike went back out to the living room and looked around. He needed things that would keep Will sane. That would keep him grounded or bring him back should the worst of the symptoms come. He looked around the walls, hoping to find some photos, but there was nothing. He tore through the house as quickly as he could, searching the book shelves and drawers but all traces of Hawkins, of their childhood, were gone.

Mike picked up Will’s messenger bag and looked inside. Along with his wallet and keys, there were headphones, a Walkman, and sketchbook. They were all that was left of the Will he knew. He opened the tape deck to see a mixed tape of classical music. Maybe even less than he thought. How much of him had they carved away? Mike grabbed the bag and threw the medicine bottles in. He wanted to dump them down the drain but he needed to keep them… as a last resort.

He opened the door out of the apartment to see if the coast was clear. The security guard paced the hallway, a gun on her hip, something that hadn’t been there before. Her back was to Mike, so he closed the door as quietly as he could and locked it. 

Mike went back down to the bedroom window, which faced the alley outside. He peered down and saw El, with their duffel bag, waiting.

“Ready?” She mouthed. 

Mike nodded. His eyes scanned the brick wall for a fire escape. The only one was a few windows away. If he could get to the hallway, he could access it. But not without taking out the now armed guard. It was too big a risk. He called down as quietly as he could. “Can you-” He gestured from the fire escape and pointed at the window. 

El gave him a look like he was crazy. She pointed to him going over to the fire escape. 

He shook his head. He made a gun with his fingers. She pursed her lips. He knew he was going to get an earful when they got back to the car. 

She responded at a normal volume, “Then, get him and get ready.” There was no point in being quiet now. She moved her feet and prepared herself. Mike ducked back in, positioned the messenger bag around him, and draped Will across his shoulders, holding Will’s leg and arm in one hand and using his other hand to steady himself. He positioned himself at the window and waited. 

El raised her hands and peeled the metal frame off the brick. The screeching sound of metal echoed in the alley. Dust from the brick and cement kicked up creating a cloud, covering them. Mike saw the metal stairs outside the window and felt his stomach drop. He carefully climbed out, holding Will like a vice grip. He clung the other hand to the metal railing and slowly made his way down the stairs, which moved with every shift of his weight. 

“El, for the love of God, can you please-” He didn’t finish the statement. The woman was holding up a staircase with her mind. He had no right to complain about it being wobbly.

“Hurry up. I can’t hold it much longer.” El said, straining.

Despite the incredible things El could do, the longer she held it, the more of a toll it took on her. Mike held Will even tighter as he moved down the stairs. He could feel his heart beating in his throat. He tried to be careful with his footing but he could only see the outline of the steps. He was moving his feet blindly, guessing how steep each stair was. 

They began to hear confused voices stepping out of the buildings. The dust was settling. Mike was still two flights up. 

He tried to go faster but missed a step and collapsed, hurling himself and Will over the railing. There was a brief sickening feeling of inevitability. That this was how he would die. But he heard the crashing of metal and his trajectory was stopped midair. There was a moment of weightlessness that he remembered from nearly fifteen years ago. He slowly descended onto the pavement and the weight returned to both him and Will, who was sprawled over his shoulders still.

El pulled Will off and draped his arm over her. She held out her hand to Mike.

“Next time we need to go out a window, you’re jumping.” Blood was dripping from her nose down her chin. 

He took her hand and stood up. 

She asked, softer. “You okay?”

He nodded. “I’m fine.” He was still dizzy from his brush with death. He took Will’s other arm over his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” She wiped the blood away. 

They made their way out of the alley, through the crowd, keeping their heads down. There were some murmurs of concern. 

A voice asked, “Is he alright?”

Mike responded over his shoulder, “He’s hit his head. We’re getting him to a hospital.”

Mike took the moment to scan the throng of people. Just civilians from what he could tell.

They made their way through. Mike asked El, “Where did you park the car?”

“Car’s gone. Had to ditch it.” 

Mike felt his stomach drop. “What? Why?” 

“We were followed.”

Mike swore, “Shit!” 

“Told you not to use the front door.”

There it was.

“I didn’t want to give him a heart attack by just standing in the middle of his apartment.” 

“Well, it cost us the car.” El added. “And time. We don’t have long.” 

Mike looked around at the cars parked on the street. “So, we taking one of these?”

She nodded and pointed at the black Mustang parked ahead. She flicked her head and the locks popped up. 

Mike shook his head. “This thing is way too flashy.”

“It’s a fast car.” She shifted Will’s weight onto Mike as she removed his arm. 

“That will be spotted in five seconds.”

“It’s black. It will blend.” She opened the door and pulled the seat up. 

“Not with that fish tail on the back.”

She gave him the Look and he stopped talking. He hadn’t listened to her about going through the front door. He owed her at least a fast car. She helped Mike get Will in the back seat. Mike moved to join Will.

“No. You drive. I shot gun.”

“He doesn’t have long before the symptoms-”

“Wait until we’re in the clear.”

Mike looked at Will, whose face was wincing as he slept. Guilt laid thick in his gut. But they needed to get to safety first. Mike nodded, then laid Will across the back seat and strapped him in.

They got in the front and shut the doors. El held up her hand and the car sprung to life. Mike shifted gears and El pulled a map from their bag. She proceeded to direct him out of the city. They steered clear of the main streets for as long as they could, but there was one unavoidable stretch before the highway. 

They turned onto it. Mike counted the red lights leading up to the highway: six. 

They waited under its glow. ‘Come on.’ Mike thought, his foot bouncing. 

Mike saw a large black van pull up behind them. 

“El? Can you check behind us?” El flicked her eyes at the rear view mirror and saw a man in a black vest. She closed her eyes, focusing on his face. 

She could hear the radio chatter, “You have eyes on them?”

He spoke into the handheld of his radio. “I got eyes on them. They are in a ‘95 black Mustang Cobra. They have the Outlier with them. Permission to fire when ready?”

The radio responded, “Wait until you are out of sight. Get them on the highway.”

El pulled herself out and saw the light change to green. She looked around and saw a few other black vehicles. They were positioned so that they could easily pull into traffic. They would be ambushed on the highway, if there weren’t already vehicles posted there.

Mike turned to her. “What’s the situation?”

“They know we have Will. They’re going to follow us on the highway.”

“Do you want me to turn down one of these streets?”

She shook her head. “They’d cut us off. I’ll stop them at the on-ramp.”

They drove in a tense silence. Mike counted the lights down. Five… four… three… two…

El instructed, “When we get to ramp, punch it.”

He nodded. One. The light turned green and Mike got into the exit lane and slammed his foot on the gas. The car roared and shot through the dark. El turned around and held up her hand, commanding the van behind the to turn its steering wheel. It flipped over, blocking the ramp. The other vehicles pulled forward but El yelled and the engines of the cars instantly backfired, sending plumes of smoke out of the hoods. 

The car accelerated on the highway. El wiped her nose and kept her eyes sharp, waiting for the rest of the pack. She saw lights from the side of the road click on and pull forward. With each light, she held up her hand and pictured yanking the wires out of the engine. Almost as soon as the lights came on, they turned off. 

El’s breath staggered. She was pushing herself. 

Mike told her, “Take it easy, El.”

She shook her head. “If they get behind us… they’ll start… shooting.” 

Mike checked his mirrors. “There’s no one behind us now. How many did you take out? Seven?”

“Fourteen.”

“Jesus!”

“They knew we were coming.”

“Stealing those files probably tipped them off.”

El nodded. She looked in the rear view and noticed a pair of headlights behind them. She turned and held up her hand but Mike stopped her.

“Wait, El. Are you sure it’s them?”

El looked back. The car was pretty far behind them and was keeping its distance.

“We can’t chance it.”

“We don’t know it’s them. That car is going at least 60 miles per hour. If you just shut it off, innocent people could die.”

She dropped her hand and leaned into the headrest. Her breath was a little ragged.

Mike pointed to the duffel bag at her feet. “Eat something, El. Get your strength back. I’ll stay ahead of it and we’ll test it out in a few minutes.”

‘Test it,’ he thought. Should he pull over or slow down? To see if the car passed them? Should he take an exit and risk getting lost or chased in a small town? People could get hurt. Slowing down was probably the best option but not until El had recovered. 

She polished off a pack of Pop-Tarts and moved onto the granola bar. But after a few moments, she started to nod off. He’d let her sleep. It had been his fault she’d gotten so weary. He shouldn’t have asked her to move the stairwell. They’d have to be better at thinking on their feet if they were going to survive this. 

After what felt like forever, Mike watched the car turn off at the next exit. The warm glow of the street lamp illuminated the car. It had been a teal minivan. He sighed, relieved. The car was quiet. El’s breaths came in slow, rhythmic breaths. But Will’s breathing in the backseat was ragged and he could hear him whimpering in his sleep. 

He was reminded of the indistinguishable cries he’d heard through his com that time. Guilt crawled up from his gut and laid on his chest. It was starting. The nightmares, followed by hallucinations. Will would be trapped again, only this time it would be in his own head. Mike needed to be back there. He needed to hold Will and be there for him through this. Will had already faced these things alone so many times. This time, he was going to be there for him. 

He held El’s knee and lightly shook her awake. She started. “What’s wrong?”

Mike looked at her. “Can you take the wheel for a bit?”

She looked a little disoriented and turned around to see the empty road behind them. Her eyes fell on Will and the pain on his face. 

Her eyes filled with sympathy for her brother. She remembered the first time she saw him, curled up, shivering. Though the years had passed, the monster’s shadow still hovered. She wanted him to find happiness. After everything that he had been through, he deserved peace. 

She said, “Pull over. I can drive.”

El knew that peace was still far away, but it could be measured in miles and time. And they would get there. In the meantime, Will would at least have Mike and her. 

They got out of the car. Mike climbed in the back, while El got in the driver’s seat. She handed him some water. Mike propped Will’s head on his lap. 

He stroked Will’s hair that was damp with sweat. “It’s okay, Will. I’m here. You’re safe.”

——————

It was dark. Will couldn’t see anything. Just miles of endless dark. But the smell he knew. He knew all too well. 

The Upside Down. 

It smelled like death, like rot. It was a strange mix of rotting scents. There was pungent horrible one of decay. It had been all he’d been able to smell that first night. But after a while, there had been other nodes, an underlying sweetness in it, like fermented fruit. The vines. That was what they smelled like. 

He couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t he see anything? 

Then he felt something, like tendrils on his head. The ones that had held him in place against the wall. The vines that crawled. 

Will tried to twist his head out of its grip.

———————-  
Will weakly moved his head, out from Mike’s touch. Mike pulled his hand away. He held Will and wondered how he could help. What he could possibly do to let him know he was there. 

He kept trying to soothe with his words, but he knew Will couldn’t hear him. 

‘...together, right.’ It was an old echo. An old promise. One that they had both done a shit job at keeping. But they were back together again. After all this time.

He held Will’s hand.   
________________

There was a sensation in his fingers. The vines. But Will held them and knew that wasn’t right. There were bones and muscle. A corpse? Was he in the beast’s graveyard? But there was warmth and something familiar.

There was someone beside him, holding his hand. It may be dark, and he may have been dragged back to that hell. But this time, he had someone beside him.

This time, he wasn’t alone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short Byeler story I'm writing. If it becomes more than 5 chapters.... someone will need to drag me away from the keyboard... please. Haha!
> 
> I got surprise inspired for this when I had my music on shuffle. Songs include:
> 
> 1\. Coppélia Act 1: Waltz: Moderato  
2\. Liebeslieder (Lovesongs), Op. 114: Waltz  
3\. Running Away by Timecop1983
> 
> Those ones were the originals but I have since picked up a few others that fit in either lyrics, mood, or aesthetic. 
> 
> *Eet by Regina Spektor  
*Close (feat. Tove Lo) Nick Jonas  
*Pretty much the entire album Waves by Timecop1983
> 
> If you have other songs that you think go, send them my way!


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